Furious Angels
by Scouse
Summary: Follows on from the CoR. Kyra is dead. She died for him. But there may be a way to get her back...and Riddick wants her back! To find her again Riddick must brave the Underverse...and some ghosts from the past...rated M just to be on the safe side.
1. Prologue: Kyra\'s Sacrifice

Okey kokey. I know it's been forever since I last updated anything remotely to do with Riddick and I'm sorry. Portents of Fate has come to a screeching halt so I'm giving it a wide birth until inspiration strikes me. I'm not sayin I'll never finish it but it just wasn't flowing like the Job did and I was trying to force it…it just isn't working at the moment.

So, I've had this fic in my mind for a looooong time. Since I heard the song (where I got the title from) by Rob Dougan, you know the Matrix one. It's such a beautiful song and the lyrics are so poignant, they just seemed to fit Riddick and Kyra down to the ground and so here I am trying my hand at a new fic.

It has nothing to do with the Job or Portents and is based on what happens in Chronicles. This prologue goes through Kyra's feelings as she watches Riddick getting battered by the Lord Marshal (cough, Jerk, cough, cough!).

Tell me what you reckon. I know it's short but this is only the prologue. After my assessment with the examiner next week (coz I failed part of my course :slaps self in head:;) I should be getting a lot more of this out and I may even find the inspiration I need to sort out Portents. Wish me luck!

Happy Reading,

Gem

xxx

**Furious Angels.**

**Prologue: Kyra's Sacrifice.**

Kyra watched as the Lord Marshal's assault continued upon the man that had never before met his match and she knew what she had to do. She knew it deep in her heart, with every fibre of her being, and she was aware that if she faltered at all, for even a second, not only would she die, but so would the man who had captured and owned her heart since the first time her eyes had glimpsed him chained and restrained aboard the Hunter Gratzner.

There was nothing that she could do to change the fact that she held the key to the moment, that she had the next move in her slender, scarred hands. No smart-assed plans to get around what she was about to do. What she _had _to do.

An immense and blinding clarity pierced her mind as she stood observing the clash between the two colossally powerful men, neither of which even had the vaguest notion that she was still there. That she was the solution. That she _could_, was _about_ to put pains to their warring. Was about to bring both the gifts of life and death in one single, final act of altruism.

She took a deep breath, her pale jade eyes flickering, matching the swiftness with which the two men fought, watching the moves as if she knew what the next would be, observing their dance of death and waiting for her cue to cut in and take the lead.

She was going to die…

She was going to die for _him_…

Kyra's memory reeled back in time suddenly, years flickering backwards like someone flipping through the pages of a book until it stopped upon her remembrance of a conversation she had overheard between Riddick and Imam concerning Fry's last words. They had thought she had been asleep, though she had rarely slept in the aftermath of their crash and escape from hell.

Fry had told Riddick that she would not die for him. The blond docking pilot may have been telling the truth before she was ripped from Riddick's arm but equally she could have very well have been lying through her teeth. Kyra hadn't been stupid back when she was Jack. Young. Naïve even, but not dense enough to remain oblivious the glances shared between the convict and the surrogate captain.

Riddick may have believed that she had not died for him, to save him. Instead his conscience found it easier to assume that she had instead died to save the girl that Kyra had once been and the Holy Man. But at that moment, when Kyra glimpsed the struggle of wills taking place before her on the slick, jet black, mirror-like floor, she knew instinctively, almost as if the Fates had whispered it in her ear, that Fry had not been the right one. Fry had not been the one that was supposed to die for _him_. She had not been _permitted_ to die for him. Only _she_, Kyra, was to perform that...Only she was able to give him that gift. Only she was meant to die for Riddick...the man she loved. Perhaps Fry had loved him too, but it was of little matter. Fry had not been the right one. She never would be the right one and Kyra both loved and hated her for that fact.

Not that she was scared of dieing, no. She'd overcome that fear many years previously. There were many things in the Multiverse far worse than death and she had come to know all of the well. But again she was not stupid. She was barely nineteen years old, not counting those lost in cryo when her growth had been slowed to a minimum. Sure, she'd spent most of her teenage years in Crematoria, but that didn't mean that she didn't have dreams, aspirations. More important to her, though, was the notion of never seeing him again. Riddick. Never able to see his face, his sweeping dark eyebrows fixed into a perpetual scowl to intimidate all who dared to look him in his silvery eyes. Never able to hear his voice, a deep thrum within the very air itself, seeping every where unbidden.

Now she was being dramatic, and if she was perfectly honest with herself she knew deep in her aching heart that she would give her life every single time if it meant that Riddick would continue to breathe. She would. She would do it.

Slowly, as Riddick and the Lord Marshal gained and lost ground to each other, almost equally matched in every way, Kyra nodded to herself, swallowing hard at the dry lump that choked bitterly in her throat. She observed their movements as if she knew what the next would be, like the Fates were again whispering into her mind, and her body began to tingle.

It began in the pit of her stomach at first. An icy buzzing that made her vision waver and her head swim while her body moved of it's own accord. Her fists clasped around the ornamental spear, fixed to the wall behind her and the frigid buzz spread up through her chest to her heart. Slowly she turned, clasping at the weapon in her fists so tightly that her knuckles shone like sun on the snow and her palms stung in protest of her fingernails that dug deep into the soft skin. Her heart beat louder and fast with every moment she made that took her closer to the fray. It shuddered against her ribcage painfully, like a hellhound of Crematoria waiting to be released for the hunt, and the blood thundered through her veins so ferociously that the sounds of the world around her, the yells of Riddick as he was thrown to the slick, mirror-like, jet black floor, the noises of the Necromongers cheering their leader onwards, died in her ears, replaced only by the rushing of her own blood.

She was going to die…

She was going to die for _him…_

-ooooo-

There you have it. Please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 1: The Necromonger Way

Well, here is the first chapter and it's a lot longer than the prologue. I had so much fun writing this one. Hope you all like it. Not much else to say really.

Oh yeah, forgot the disclaimer so please don't sue me! I don't own anything'! Nothin'! Not a sausage! Mmmm sausages! Yes, well, ahem. On with the story.

Thankies to **TotallyRiddickObsessed** and **FitMama **for your reviews! This will indeed, in theory, be Kyra/Riddick eventually but that may be a helluva way off yet…sorry. All I can say about who he meets in the Underverse is that they're from his past…and Kyra's too.

Righteo, Happy Reading!

Gem

xxx

**Chapter 1: The Necromonger Way. **

The vast assembly of armoured warriors knelt in a single, fluid motion, drawing Riddick's stinging eyes open from behind his hand. Only then did he realise the implications of what had happened. After seeing the life slip out of Kyra's pale, quivering body his legs had become unable to support him and he had stumbled backwards to sit down hard on the nearest thing that would support his weight. That just happened to be the Lord Marshal's throne. So, not only had he killed the Necromonger Regent, but he had willingly, if unknowingly, placed himself on that throne, inadvertently claiming it as his own.

"You keep what you kill…" he muttered to himself as he glanced down and the sight of Kyra's limp form, draped down the throne's steps, assaulted his vision. His silvery eyes stung again more ferociously than before and Riddick snorted. It was a feeble attempt at laughter and he knew it all too well, but if he didn't laugh, other emotions would come boiling to the surface and pour forth from his shined eyes like glittering, liquid diamonds and he would not permit himself to show such weakness. Not even now that she was dead. Kyra. Kyra who had always been with him as she had told him, lying limp in his arms as her life seeped out of her body. She was always with him, never against him as the rest of the Multiverse seemed to be. Kyra was the only one who had known him, and not from information that he had told her or hearsay that she had gleaned from the news and prison reports. All she had to do was take one look at him, deep in his eyes, and it was as if she had read his soul like a book.

She had always known when he had been planning something that bordered on the impossible. She had always been his voice of reason, his conscience, even after he'd left her with the Holy Man. When he stood poised above his victim, waiting for the right moment to strike, it was always her voice that he heard in his mind, telling him to think twice, to consider what it was that he was about to do. It was her voice that was the only thing that had ever soothed the beast that lurked beneath his deceptively controlled surface. She had never sought to control it or kill it off like many of the Slam psychologists had. She had accepted it, and in turn, the beast had accepted her. The beast had loved her for that simple fact that she had cared about it. She had cared about him, Richard B. Riddick, serial killer, convict, murderer. She had cared about _all _of him…unconditionally.

Footsteps, gentle and quiet against the smooth marble floor brought Riddick from his inner turmoil and his eyes, which had hadn't realised that he had closed, snapped open again to take in the thin, pale man before him. He was little more than a boy actually. Seventeen, eighteen at the most, his large blue eyes trained purposefully upon the body of Kyra, who lay so still that it made Riddick's heart clench painfully. He half expected her to spring to her feet at any second and shoot her smart-assed mouth off about how he was a stupid shit-head for letting her die. The blond haired boy stooped by her side, long fingers brushing her throat tenderly as he sought out any signs of a pulse.

"Don't you fucking _dare_ touch her!" Riddick growled out, his hand falling from where it had screened his face off from prying eyes. His fists clenched and he sat forwards, ready to spring to his feet and kill the boy with his bare hands if he had to. No one touched Kyra. Not a fucking Necro, tainting her with his filthy, grabbing, prying fingers. The beast surged forwards from within him, pushing, clawing from inside his chest, hammering against his ribcage alongside his thundering heart. The beast wanted to break every single one of the boy's slender fingers, wanted to bite them off and spit them out on the floor so that the asshole could see his own bloody digits twitching before his feet. Better yet, the beast howled to force them down the boy's stupid, fucking throat because he had dared to touch her.

"I said don't you fucking dare touch her!" he repeated, his voice rising in volume until it roared around the vaulted throne room, resounding from ceiling to floor and back again like the pounding of a war drum.

The boy froze, fear turning his blue eyes to ice as he glanced up at Riddick.

"But-but-m-m-my Lord!" he stuttered, withdrawing his hand as if he had been scalded. "I-I-I-it is the N-necromonger way!"

Riddick felt the red haze slowly start to descend upon him. He felt the restraints that he placed upon his inner demon starting to give, the links in the chain beginning to creak and pull apart as it clamoured to be released. And he felt his own desire to keep the thing locked away beginning to wane. He _wanted_ to kill them all. The whole fucking lot of them! Every single last fucking one as slowly and painfully as he could.

"Fuck the Necromonger way!" he snarled, standing from the throne, that now belonged to him, in a swift motion that made the boy dizzy and sway where he crouched. "Get away from her!"

The boy seemed torn between his fear of Riddick and a fear that ran deeper, one that had been ingrained into him for many years, possibly since he had been born into the fucked up life of a Necro. His eyes darted from Riddick's imposing form, down to Kyra's lifeless body and then to his still out stretched hand that wavered as if he was desperate to touch her again.

"It must be done, my Lord. Her body must be moved and-"

"You're not taking her body fuckin' anywhere!" Riddick's tone changed into a barely audible rumble from somewhere buried in his chest, warning the boy not to challenge him like an alpha male lion would warn another male away from his pride, like a wolf defending his territory. "You're not taking her away from _me_!" the words howled from his throat unbidden. He knew that he was in denial. He knew that he should quash the hope that somehow he could save her again, like he had so many time, but he simply couldn't bring himself to do it. Even with the evidence lying before his feet, draped unceremoniously down the jagged steps.

This was the very reason that he never got attached to anything, to _anyone_. He just could not deal with it when they were ripped away from him so unfairly…and they always were.

Everything he touched, died. Everything he cared for, was taken away. Everything he loved, left him. That was what he had come to expect. It was the norm, and though he had foolishly thought that somehow she would be different, that Kyra would be different if he kept himself away from her and loved her from afar, he had been proven wrong…again, and the outcome was more than he could bare.

"My Lord, you don't understand." the boy mumbled again, cowering slightly as Riddick swung his luminous gaze, bright with fury and pain, to focus upon him again. "In order for her soul to reach the Underverse her body must be properly cared for. If the correct rituals are not performed her spirit will be trapped forever in the Threshold."

Riddick snorted, swaggering slightly as he descended the steps one-by-one. Then he laughed, loud and long as if he was blind drunk, though no amusement could be found in the sound.

"The Underverse? Spirits? _Souls_?" he laughed again, throwing his head back and barking towards the ceiling. "That's a crock of shit!" he sneered and the boy flinched as if Riddick's blasphemous words would damn them all to hell. "Hate to break it to you, kid, but there ain't no Underverse. There ain't no place that you go after you die where you can live in peace and bliss for eternity." he chuckled and rubbed a hand across his blood smeared jaw, still tender from his battle with the Lord Marshal. "You die kid, and that's fuckin' it. No bright lights, no redemption, no saving grace. Nothin'. You just end up as fuckin' worm bait."

The boy remained silent for an extended heartbeat, still crouched down beside Kyra's body, until he gave a great sigh, opening his mouth to speak again. He was interrupted, however, by a high, silky voice that Riddick knew all too well. His hands clenched of their own accord, wishing that they were tightening about her neck instead of curling into fists, but he managed to restrain himself…for the moment.

"What the boy says is true, my Lord Marshal." she purred, pushing through the throng of soldiers and shooting a sultry, heavy-lidded glance at her husband before stopping before Riddick. She dipped her upper body into a low bow, her eyes remaining intent upon his, and revealling just enough of her ample cleavage to set any normal man on a lustful rampage. Riddick was not any normal man, however, and he didn't have the time nor the patience for Dame Vaako's flirtatious games.

When she realised that her actions were having no effect whatsoever, she huffed and drew herself back to her full height and set about tackling him with a different approach.

"She was very beautiful." she remarked, glancing down to where Kyra lay at Riddick's feet.

"She _is_." Riddick corrected with a growl.

Dark eyes flashed up to meet his silver ones, tauntingly, almost. "Was she your woman?"

Riddick felt his gullet constrict and his teeth ground together so hard that his jaw ached as he glared back at the brazen woman before him.

"No?" Dame Vaako queried with a wicked curl of her lips and an arched eyebrow. She slunk forwards, circling Kyra and studying her as a scavenger would contemplate a dead animal for food. "She was important to you though, that much is obvious for all to here to see." she swung an arm gracefully, inviting Riddick to take in the host standing and observing the spectacle, yet his glare did not stray from where it bored holes into her skull.

Dame Vaako gave tinkling laugh, clapping her slim, well manicured hands together in delight.

"Perhaps my Lord Marshal would like a new woman, yes?" she asked excitedly, entwining her fingers together so that her hands resembled a gesture of prayer and tucking them beneath her chin, elbows drawn in tightly to her sides. "What would you like, my Lord? Young? Old? Blond? Brunette? Redhead?" her dark eyes glittered coldly as Riddick still refused to respond to her. "Perhaps, my Lord would like me?"

A cry went up from where her husband stood amid the other Necromonger troops, but Dame Vaako ignored him, focused entirely upon the new Lord Marshal before her.

Riddick's lips curled up at the corners into a small smirk and Dame Vaako beamed widely, triumphantly, as he reached his hand out towards her slowly. His fingertips caressed her cheek briefly before travelling down, smoothing her dark hair back from her neck and shoulders until he reached her throat.

"You?" he queried, raising an eyebrow and suddenly his hand constricted about her neck, causing her eyes to widen in shock. Her soft, small hands clawed desperately as he cut off her air. He sneered in distaste, turning his head to the side and spitting to rid his mouth of her foulness that had seeped in as he breathed and tainted his tongue. "I'd rather fuck a dead dog!"

Despite her dire circumstances, Dame Vaako actually smiled, choking out a brief laugh until Riddick jolted her and it died on her tingling lips.

"If that is my Lord's wish, then perhaps I should take the girl's body up to your chambers?" she posed it as a question and somehow that made the remark sting even more than if she had yelled it at him.

Riddick was so shocked, so absolutely horrified by her words that he released her throat, allowing her to take a step back and away from him before his beast took over and he lashed out, cracking his hand across her face with so much force that she hit the ground and skidded several feet away from him.

"Don't you ever fucking dare talk about her that way or I swear I will cut out your fucking spine!" he growled, his voice quite and cold with controlled rage. "Now get up and get out of my fucking sight you vile whore!"

Dame Vaako shuddered where she had fallen wiping blood from her chin where is poured freely from her split lip. Never before had she tasted her own blood and her cheeks, one darkened by a thunderous bruise, flushed red from shame.

"As you wish, my Lord…" she mumbled dragging herself to her feet and scurrying away towards the large doors of the chamber. Her husband met Riddick's steely glare for a split second before he too left, following after his errant spouse with purpose in his stride.

"You!" Riddick roared, spinning on his heel to face the pale, blond haired boy who still knelt on the floor beside Kyra, the scent of fear clouding around him in a haze after what he had just witnessed. "What the fuck were you saying? About the Threshold?"

The boy stammered nervously, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"Spit it out!" Riddick thundered and the boy jolted, eyes wide like a frightened rabbit.

"Her spirit will remain there if the correct rituals are not performed, my Lord." he blurted, wincing as if he thought Riddick might strike him also.

Riddick began to pace, ideas thudding through his brain like lightening. If he could…would he be able to…?

"Do you have a surgeon on board?" his voice was less harsh as spoke again, but no less urgent.

The boy nodded his head vigorously.

"Good. Can they heal her body? Can they keep it living without her…soul?" Riddick knew that he was clutching at straws but he couldn't give a shit. If there was some sliver of hope, some remote chance that the Necro's were being truthful about the Threshold then he may just have the chance to save her that he had been hoping for.

"On life support. A machine that breathes for the patient. Most patients are only in a coma though, my Lord, not dead." he replied and Riddick's mind was made up. He had to take the chance, no matter how slim it was. No matter if disappointment and despair waited for him at the journey's conclusion.

"Then what are you all fucking waiting for? Get me to the fucking Threshold!" he bellowed and Necromangers, old and young, men and women, scrambled to their stations, following the new Lord Marshal's first order.

-ooooo-

Wow, I really enjoyed writing that chapter! Woohoo! Dame Vaako is so much fun to write. She's such a biatch! Hahaha! Please read and review! Lemme know what you think!


	3. Chapter 2: The Fate of Us All

Woohoo! Chapter 2! And now I have finished uni FOREVER! Hahahahaha! Never again will I have to animate anything! Can you tell I'm happy about it? I just need to find me a job now…

Anywho, onwards with the next instalment of the story. We're getting closer to the Underverse. I think on more chapter with Lord and Dame Vaako after this one and then it's into death we go! Please lemme know if this chapter works okay, I'm a little unsure about the ending so if you have any ideas and constructive criticism please feel free to shred away!

Thakies to you all for your great reviews! They really make my day! I love 'em!

**TotallyRiddickObsessed- Yup, I just love writing Dame Vaako, she is such a cow and Thandie Newton was so amazing in the film. I tried hard to keep her in character. To me she seemed more evil than her hubby.**

**JackieStarr- wow, thankies! Here is more! Sorry it wasn't sooner.**

**Blacke's-Girl- Here's the next part hope you like!**

**FitMama- Heh. That was my favourite line too! Hee! She's a super bitch! Glad you liked that, hope you like this next one and thanks for such a lovely review!**

**a- here's the next part, sorry it wasn't sooner and thankies for reviewing!**

**traptroque6- Yes! I totally agree! I think that was my one qualm with CoR. Riddick would not have been lead so easily into the Quasi Dead chamber. Riddick wasn't that stupid Mr. Twoy! Anywho, yes, that's my little rant over and done with. Thankies for reviewing and expect to see more of Riddick putting the Uber Bitch in her place!**

**JohnMayer1207- aww, shucks, you make me blush! Thankies for your review and glad you like it so much. Hope this chapters okay too!**

Well, Happy Reading!

Gem

xxx

**Chapter 2: The Fate of Us All. **

Riddick rubbed furiously at his itching eyes as he leaned back over the heavy, dust coated tome and forced them to continue taking in the small, spidery script. The vast library of the basilica was dark save for a scattering of candles, flickering and casting a pale golden glow around Riddick where he sat hunched over his chosen books, bathing him in the soft, dancing, dawn-like light. A large callused finger smoothed across the page from left to right, tracking the words, hunting them almost, his mercury eyes darting in his finger's wake seeping in the information and his lips moved minutely, silently speaking as his brain registered what he was reading.

Though even the dim light irritated his eyes, the source of their incessant itching, he needed such illumination to actually read by and his mild discomfort was a small price to pay for the research that he was doing. It was vital that he knew what he was up against when he set foot over the Threshold as the Necro-boy had called it. He needed to know the rules of this new game…just so he could break them all and bring _her_ back. Back from the bleakness of death. Shit, he'd go charging blind, deaf and dumb right into hell to get her if he had to and the Devil would pay if anyone so much as _tried_ to stop him.

There had to be some way of reaching her. The past Lord Marshal had, according to his current choice of literature, ventured to the Threshold himself, had stepped into the very Underverse and returned to speak of it. He'd returned to _gloat_ of it. Arrogant son of a bitch he was!

Riddick allowed a smirk to twist his lips as he remembered the look of pure horror on the man's pale face as that blade, the very one that the Lord Marshal had bestowed upon him after Riddick's victory against the best Necromonger warrior, had pierced his skull, driving home to his brain with as much force as Riddick's aching arm could muster.

His revenge had been short lived, however, before the taste had become sour upon his tongue. Seeing Kyra's body, unable to hold her own weight, her eyes barely focusing upon his face as he took her into his arms like he should have so many times before and asked tentatively, fearing the answer, if she was still with him. She had looked at him then, fleetingly, her eyes only seeing him for long enough to speak those final words that had etched themselves onto his heart forever…

…_I was always with you…I was…_

Then the fierce emerald of her gaze had faded, their usually ardent light dimmed, paled as she looked not at him, but through him. Staring half-heartedly into the face of death, only a small smile gracing her cold, blue tinted lips. A smile filled with a mixture of sorrow that she was leaving him, of pain from her injuries, of satisfaction and pride that she had saved him. She had saved him. She had saved him twice! Once from the Lord Marshal and the second time…from himself…from his own lack of humanity though that had started when he had first clapped eyes on her, clad in boy's clothes. Barely twelve years old. Fierce to the last. Her tough-ass demeanour had all been an act, the shaving of her head, finding goggles like his, swearing. The true Jack had shone through all of that bravado regardless though and only for him. Never would she drop her guard for anyone else. Only him. Always only him.

Riddick swallowed hard to clear his throat, his silvery eyes stinging again for reasons other than the irritating light. Clamping his jaw determinedly, he returned to the task at hand. The sooner he figured out what the hell the deal was with the Threshold and the Underverse, the sooner he could get her back, beside him, where she belonged.

The entire Necromonger history was written down in thousands upon thousands of huge, leather bound volumes making them one of the final races in the Multiverse who preferred parchment and ink to the glitch ridden computers that were adopted more for convenience and speed rather than accuracy. Despite his admiration for the patience needed to complete the mammoth task of penning their entire heritage by hand, Riddick cursed them harshly for their efficiency. Everything from the first Lord Marshal's birth, to the third Lord Marshal's romantic tendencies, to the fifth Lord Marshal's eating habits where catalogued in such immense detail that each subject warranted it's own shelf of books, if not more in some cases.

Riddick glanced over his shoulder briefly, taking in the hundreds of floor to ceiling bookcases made from some magnificent form of ebony and slate, every single shelf filled to bursting…he was going to be there all night…and it was going to be a long assed night at that!

A breeze caressed his cheek. A mere shifting of the warm night air of the basilica library but he knew she was there. He'd known that she would come at some point. Actually he was remarkably surprised that she hadn't made her presence known sooner being the meddling old woman that she was.

"You'll not find what you are looking for in here." came her soft but regal voice. Though she came and went like the wind, Aereon's voice, her poise, her entire disposition rang with a power, not physical like his, but an amazing power none-the-less. He respected her for that.

"What took you so long to wheedle your way out of the woodwork?" he snorted, not even glancing up from his page. "I'da thought you'da been the first out, shouting your mouth off 'bout how your prophecy came true." his voice came out as an amused rumble that tingled through the warm air.

Aereon smiled at him from where she stood, draped in new robes of white and pale yellow, hemmed with golden thread. She looked like a queen, Riddick noted absently and perhaps she was. No one save the Elemental race knew who their queen was. No one besides them had seen her face. Sure, there were tales and rumours, idle gossip speculating who she was but those same gossip-mongers had dubbed both Butcher's Bay and Crematoria inescapable when Riddick had escaped from both without breaking little more than a sweat each time. Overall, he wasn't one to heed the hearsay of the rabble.

Aereon's soft chuckle broke Riddick's train of thought and he glanced over at her, watching, ever wary, as she moved closer to the table where he sat. The pale candlelight lit her age and care worn face, making her look for the first time since he had met her, old and weary. Wars did that to people and she was no doubt there, disrupting Riddick's concentration, to discern if there was still going to be a need to fight, to see if he could be trusted not to wage his own war on the Multiverse to pay it back for his many years of mistreatment.

"You are wondering if I am the Elemental Queen, aren't you." she stated, smiling tiredly, rather than asked.

Riddick simply shrugged.

"Makes no difference to me." he responded quietly, licking his thumb and using the added friction to flip to the next page in his book.

"Oh but it does. It will make a great difference to you, Lord Marshal." she replied enigmatically and Riddick's luminous gaze turned stormy.

"Don't call me that." he growled, a deep vibration disturbed the still air and caused Aereon's body to ripple between her physical and elemental state.

"Why not? It is your title now. Is it not?" she queried laying an age smoothed hand across the page that he was studying intently.

Riddick grit his teeth, desperately trying to keep himself under control. She was beginning to annoy him, Elemental Queen or not. That was why he hated people. They just wouldn't leave him be. They simply couldn't it seemed, always intent on sticking their noses where they didn't belong, meddling in affairs that weren't their own. His fists clenched either side of the great book, turning his knuckles to ice white and Aereon chuckled again.

"Do I try your patience, Lord Marsh-"

Before the sentence had left her lips, and before she could breeze from his grasp, Riddick's powerful hand had lashed out and encircled her throat, though not with the force he had unleashed upon Dame Vaako.

"You came here for a reason, old woman, not to simply annoy me, so do us both a favour and cut to the fucking chase!" Riddick seethed, teeth clenched and jaw set as his silver gaze hammered into her steely blue one.

She was silent for a long moment, eyes intent on his until she dipped her head slightly.

"Very well." she murmured and his hold loosened automatically, allowing her to step back and away from his overpowering form. Her small, soft hands smoothed down the front of her robes with exaggerated care, her eyes were lowered as if she was steeling herself for what she was about to say to him, dreading his reaction. Finally she sighed, clasping her hands together in front of her and glancing back up slowly to meet his questioning stare. "May I give you some advice?" she queried quietly and Riddick snorted, his shoulders lurching up and down again in a vague motion of amusement.

"You're free to try…" he responded with a quirk of his lips, linking his hands and folding them behind his head in a gesture that was normally associated with relaxation. He, however, was waiting intently upon her next words. Words that would perhaps decide whether she lived or died that night at his hands.

Taking another deep breath to still the flutter in her heart, she continued.

"Do not make this pilgrimage into the Underverse." she spoke, her tone desperate, her sapphire blue eyes pleading with him though she only saw his stoic glare hardening as she spoke. "As soon as you cross over the Threshold you know they will try to take your Lordship from you." she did not need to explain who exactly she was talking about. Riddick had seen the greedy hunger in both Lord and Dame Vaako's eyes and with that the icy hatred that would fuel Lord Vaako to do almost anything to see Riddick destroyed. Dame Vaako was much better at controlling and concealing her emotions than her livid husband and in turn was a much greater threat. Lord Vaako he could deal with. A man shaped by war and battle. Fighting Riddick knew well and if he was ever challenged by the Necromonger commander, the slim, pale man would go down harder than a ton of bricks. It was the cunning, the manipulation of that scheming woman that he was concerned about the most, though not so much that he was losing sleep over it. All he needed to do if things became too much for him to control was to slit her throat while she slept. Her pathetic excuse of a husband too, if he got in the way.

Aereon cleared her throat softly, drawing Riddick's gaze to her and his mind back to the situation at hand.

"If you return through the Threshold, with or without this girl that you risk so much for, they will kill you both. The will kill her first, for the second time, just so that you have to watch her life slip out of her body again. And then…they will kill you." she sighed again, placing a hand upon Riddick's shoulder beseechingly. "I am begging you, Riddick. I am an Elemental. My life is to calculate and the odds of you returning from the Underverse with your woman and remaining alive are slim…very slim. The Multiverse cannot survive another Lord Marshal like the last and Lord and Dame Vaako would rule with more ruthlessness than we have ever seen before."

Riddick remained silent for so long the Aereon opened her mouth to speak again, demanding if he had listened to a word she had said. Riddick simply spoke over her. His voice slicing through the suddenly muggy air and causing the elderly Elemental to fall into silence once more.

"I want her back." he stated firmly, shrugging her hand from his shoulder and turning his back on her.

"Please, Riddick!" she implored him again. "Take a Necromonger wife. Take two if you must, but do not turn your back on Vaako even for a second or it shall be your last."

His shoulders stayed hunched and tense, fury emanating from him like a brilliant white light. He was stubborn. Truly a Furyan if ever she had seen one. What the Furyan wanted the Furyan always got and that was the truth of the matter. Riddick would go into the other side of life, straight into death itself to save this girl that he held so dear that he would gamble entirety to have her again, with or without Aereon's help. Defiant to the last.

Aereon allowed herself a small smile and nodded her head as if confirming to herself what she must do.

"She is that important to you?"

"Yes…" his reply was little more than a murmur and Aereon was unsure that she had heard him speak at all until he repeated it.

And then she smile with more feeling, a more genuine smile than she had smile in years.

"Very well then." she spoke gently. "It can be done. She can be saved and I shall aid you in your quest even though I fear where this path you choose will leave the fate of us all."

-ooooo-

Please gimme a review…or two…or three…maybe….hah! I'm a poet and I didn't know it! I know I'm being silly now…ahem…please review if you feel like it!


	4. Chapter 3: A Marriage of Convenience

Wow, good Lordy! So many reviews! I love 'em! I love you all for taking the time to comment and I'm so glad you're liking it!

This chapter took me a while and is shorted then the previous two. I wanted to explain the relationship between the Vaako's coz it seemed to me as if very little love was involved in their marriage. I dunno.

Anywho, no Riddick in this one…sorry. But he'll be getting to the Underverse soon. I probably need to have a few more chapters before I get there but I'm not sure. I'm kinda letting this fic flow by itself so whenever inspiration strikes I follow it.

Thankies again for all you great reviews! 18 already! Phew!

**lcores- thank you! The next instalment is here! **

**FitMama- Wow! A writer for the script of Twohy? I WISH! If I had been I would not be working in a sunbed shop and failing my university degree but wow! What a compliment! goes all red**

**TotallyRiddickObsessed- Yes Aereon is an evil madam! She's a different kind of bed guy. I dunno, in the film I never saw her as one of the good guys…I guess that leads to the argument what is good and evil? It's all just a point of view really…ow! My heads hurting now…**

**crematoriacon- thankies! Here's the next part. Hope you like!**

**Silverbloodrain- hee! Thankies! You rock too! Thanks for reviewing!**

**rebel1203- don't worry, I'll be posting this right through to it's conclusion! I want to get it out coz I've had this fic in my head for a LONG assed time. I love it and I want to get the good bits out. **

**Tesmoname- Yeah, I noticed them. The bald ones? Hee. That was kinda where the idea came from but it came mainly from the film 80 Days Around the World you know the part where they meet Arnie as that king-bloke and he's all like "You can be my seventh wife!" LOL! I had mental images of Riddick like that. Hmmm…**

**Riddick: Hey you, writer-girl, you can be my seventh wife! How's Tuesday for you?**

**Me: Erm, I'm working Tuesday, but Thursday…I'm free ALL day!**

Hahahaha! I'm being daft now! Thankies for you review!

**a- oh he can't kill 'em…I have big plans for Vaako and the Uber Bitch…**

**JohnMayer1207- Well, here is the next part. I got that out quite quick if I do say so myself…hope it's up to scratch and thankies for reviewing!**

Well, on with the show. I didn't know what Lord and Dame Vaako's first names where so I made them up. Lord Vaako's first name (according to me) is Itheus and Dame Vaako's is Aniva. Sorry if they're poo names…suggestions would be good and I'll changed 'em.

Righteo, Happy Reading!

Gem

xxx

**Chapter 3: A Marriage of Convenience. **

Dame Vaako peered into the large, oval mirror set upon her vanity table, cluttered and covered with the many gifts of perfume, make up and jewellery that her husband had showered her with over the ten years that they had been married.

It had been an arranged marriage. One discussed and decided upon by their parents in order to better the family name or bring power and importance and riches to them. Love had had nothing to do with it. A marriage of convenience.

Vaako had been young then. They both had, but him more so. He had been a newly promoted Captain, serving under his father's command. All of sixteen summers old, with a bright and brilliant future ahead of him. Many girls had swooned at his feet since he had come of age. Flocks of them had followed him, desperate for a glimpse at his handsome face or a kind word, though they rarely received either. He could have had his pick of any woman in the basilica. Young or old. All admired him…even her own mother gained a certain gleam in her eye when he was mentioned.

Yet Vaako had needed more than just any woman beside him. He needed one of unsurpassed beauty on his arm for the other Captains, Generals and Commanders to covet. Jealousy was a powerful ally within the constricting hull of the Lord Marshal's armada ships and many a man had been promoted simply because the Commanding Officer desired his wife.

And she had been beautiful beyond comparison. A rose among the thorns of the other Necromonger girls. Different to them all, her deep honey-coloured skin standing in exotic contrast to their pale, pallid, pasty faces. Oh how they hated her. The girl who gained favour with all despite the fact that her family were merely average. Her father had been just another face among the congregation all of his life as had his father and his father's father. He wanted a better life for his only child than simply becoming a soldiers wife yet it had been her mother, the cool, calculating woman that she had been, who had pushed her father, given him ideas, a plan to flaunt their daughter's rare gift of exquisiteness before the Vaako's, for it was common knowledge that they sought a good wife for their son.

At first she had protested. She was eighteen and claimed undying love for a newly converted soldier. His eyes had been deep and soft and his hair as dark as her own. She had spent many a day…and a night _enjoying _his company.

However, after tasting the power that she held over so many men upon that night of her first introduction to Vaako, after sensing every single pair of eyes in the entire grand hall upon her barely dressed body, wanting her, desiring her, she knew that she would thirst for the feeling forever. Her need for power growing with every second that she captivated their attention, turning them away from their own wives, who glowered at her darkly.

And she did not fail in her task of capturing Vaako's attention either. All it took was one heated glance at him across the filled room and he had been hers. A rabbit caught in her snare. A fly in her web. He had wanted her, lusted after her along with the rest of them and she? She had wanted his power. An equal trade if ever she saw one. Her body for his control and supremacy. Her mother always told her that behind every great man there was an equally, if not more, great woman. If she had Vaako captivated by her, she owned him, owned his dominance.

_'There are many ways to make a man do your bidding.' _her mother had told her upon her wedding day. _'Subtlety. Make him believe that the idea was his to begin with. Make him believe it is he who controls you. Then you shall have the keys to the very Underverse!' _

Dame Vaako was startled from her memories by the door to their chamber slamming open, cracking back against the thick metallic wall with a thunderous clap. The mirror before her shuddered precariously upon her vanity table, turning her image into a shivering, blurred semblance of her true self.

Her husband stood in the doorway, pale face livid and his cheeks flushed slightly with anger. One look into his stormy eyes and she knew that she was likely to receive another beating before the day was out.

She sighed, steeling herself for what was about to unfold, returning to inspect the bruise upon her cheek while desperately attempting to remember her mother's words. Her body for his power…an equal trade. An equal trade…

"You went to far today, Aniva!" his voice was quiet, controlled but she knew that would not last for long. He had never been able to control his temper and she had received many injuries at his hands throughout their volatile relationship.

"What's done is done, dear husband." she responded, her voice light as she dabbed a concealing balm over her darkened and swollen cheek. "I did what I did in an attempt to save us."

Vaako snorted, a bitter, mirthless sound as he moved into the room and closed the door behind him, locking it.

"To save us?" he scoffed, stalking towards her across the smooth, slate grey floor. "Like the Underverse you did! You have been fascinated with the Furyan since you first beheld him!" he snarled and she noted the jealousy flash dangerously within his black eyes. After all, he saw her as his prize, his possession, a treasure that was solely for his enjoyment. No man liked to share and Vaako more so than any.

"Please, Itheus!" she replied with a small laugh, turning in her seat to look at him face to face rather than through her mirror. "You really believed that I was offering myself to him?"

Vaako's eyes sparked at her again as he neared, encroaching upon her personal space, intent on intimidating her.

"Weren't you?" he queried, his voice was barely more than a whisper, furious and deadly.

Aniva Vaako met her husbands glare with her own, reaching out her small hand to caress his cheek lovingly.

"Come, my dear, think you so little of me?" she purred, smiling as Vaako's body began to react to her advances against his will. He slapped her hand away and spun on his heel, standing with his back to her, fists clenched at his sides.

"At this moment in time? Yes. You acted like nothing but the cheap harlot he accused you of being. How do you think that makes me look? Lord Vaako, unable to keep his wife from straying!"

Vaako ripped the armour from his chest in a swift, angry motion, tossing it across the room with a great raging crash of noise. His boots followed moments later until he stood bare chest gleaming with a sheen of fury induced sweat.

"Itheus, darling, you're only going to give yourself a headache." her voice was melodious, attempting to sooth his anger. "I was merely testing him. If he had accepted my offer it would have been the perfect opportunity to kill him." she stood, her hands teasing a trail up and down Vaako's spine and shoulders causing him to shudder beneath her touch. "A knife in his back…poison in his wine…I would have killed him eventually and then we could have ruled all the Multiverse together." she slunk around him, her fingertips dancing across his collar bones and resting upon his chest as she stopped in front of him, glancing up into his eyes.

Vaako's hand shot out of nowhere, unexpected by her entirely, catching her across the same cheek the Riddick had wounded and reopening the split in her lip. The power behind his blow was nowhere near as immense as Riddick's had been, only causing her head to snap to one side instead of sending her sprawling unceremoniously across the floor. Still the sting caused tears to form in her eyes, tears that she had wanted to shed when the new Lord Marshal had rejected her and stuck her but her pride had been to great in that moment and she had left with her head high.

"If today's events are ever repeated…" his voice was a low, almost primitive growl deep in his throat. "…I will kill you myself…Is that understood?"

Dame Vaako nodded her head slightly, lowering her eyes and still cupping her cheek with one hand. At least Vaako had believed her nonsense. A small dent to her pride was nothing compared to the fact that she could still make him believe whatever she wanted him to. She still held the power in their marriage.

"Good." he grunted taking her chin in his large, war-scarred hand and turning her head to inspect her split lip. The blood poured freely again and Vaako grinned at her, running his thumb over the scarlet fluid and smearing it over her lip entirely. "Know who you belong to."

His lips caught hers in a split second, almost too fast for her to register what exactly he as doing. But then her instincts kicked in and she permitted Vaako's passion to overwhelm her. That was one thing that she didn't have to pretend in their relationship. Vaako was a good lover. The best. Never would she have to look elsewhere to be completely satiated and it was always better after they had fought.

"I belong to you…" she managed to whisper breathlessly, tearing her lips from his for long enough to take a gasp before he reclaimed her.

-ooooo-

Was that chapter totally horribly bad? Lemme know!


	5. Chapter 4: Dream of Me

Well, it's been a while since I updated so here is the next part. It's quite a strange chapter and I have times where I absolutely love it and times when I despise it more than anything! Oh well, I leave the deciding up to you. Do you love it or hate it or somewhere in between?

Thanks so much for you continuing reviews they are amazing! It's so nice to know that so many people are reading this and enjoying it. If there is ever anything that you don't like about it or you think something needs tweaking, lemme know and I'll try my best to change it.

**TotallyRiddickObsessed- That would definitely be the preferable option, wouldn't it? But alas, my muses say it cannot be. They have to be pests for a little while longer!**

**Iridescent Twilight- I'm glad you thought that one was okay and Dame Vaako makes me shudder too (almost as much as spiders do! And that's saying something! LOL) And yes it is such and injustice that Kyra died! **

**Silverbloodrain- heehee! May the Force be with you too! If you've seen my bio then you'll know that I'm a super bid Star Wars fan. I love every thing about it. Thankies for your review and you are continuing to rock too!**

**FitMama- Thank you so much for pointing that out to me. I so didn't know. Is it in the director's cut? As I live in smell old Blighty I'm not able to get the director's cut which is terribly terrible. I'm thinking about trying to get around that though by saying that both she and Vaako where born to their parents before their families where converted. Does that work? If not any suggestions would be great. That also leads me to the problem that Kyra was converted before she died…not that I'm thinking that far ahead…I mean I still dunno what happens in the Underverse yet. Thanking you mucho, mucho for you review! **

**JohnMayer1207- yep! She can handle him alright! Thankies for reviewing!**

**May-ShadowZ- yay, you gave me two reviews! LOL! Glad you liked that little bit at the end. I get a bit mad when I'm about to post a new chapter and start singing to myself…okay you didn't need to know that…I'm not crazy really! Thankies for reviewing!**

Well, Happy Reading!

Gem

xxx

Chapter 4: Dream of Me.

Riddick stared at the door. White. Sterile. Clinical. Clean. Standing in stark contrast when compared to the rest of the Necromonger flag ship that had suddenly become his residence of late. It was all of those things he discovered, after having stood still for the past forty five minutes simply considering it.

Just the thought of what lay on the other side made him swallow hard at the lump that had risen chokingly in his gullet. Just the _idea_ of having to walk through that door made him break out into a cold sweat and he rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead, swallowing a second time as his mouth went dry.

For several days he had put off venturing into _that_ room, concerning himself instead with making sure that they were on track for reaching their destination, his research about the threshold and the Underverse and talking in depth with Aereon. She drove a hard bargain despite her age and Riddick had been wrong to assume that she would help him without question. She was devious to say the least and pushed Riddick to sign a peace treaty with the Elemental home world in return for her knowledge and aid. He'd learned a long time ago that nobody ever gave you anything for free and why he had thought that Aereon was any different was beyond him. She had demanded that he stay in power as the Lord Marshal and not just up sticks and leave if his mission in the Underverse was a success. There was still a very real threat that war could rekindle as long as there were Necromongers that believed in the old ways still breathing and Riddick didn't think that he would be able to massacre an entire race no matter how good he was at it.

And so it was decided. Riddick would stay in command until a suitable successor was found, whether that be two years, twenty or until the end of his days. Riddick was stuck…but he'd do it all without complaint, with a smile upon his face if it meant that _she_ was with him again…

Shit. That turned his thoughts back to the door before him and provoked a deep frown to play across his features. The strong scent of fear wafted cloyingly about the startlingly white room but not fear from the Necro-boy stood behind him, no. The fear was his own. It had been a long time since he'd smelt his own fear. Years and years. But now it exploded around him, engulfing him, making it hard for him to breath, causing the air to catch in the back of his throat…

He had not seen her since the day she left him. The day that the life bled from her body as she lay cradled in his weary arms. Cradled to his heart. He feared seeing her. Feared seeing her lifeless and cold. Not spunky as she had been when they had first met aboard the Hunter Gratzner. Not furious as she had been when he had left her. Not fierce as she had been when they had met again in the bowels of slam. Not impassioned as she had been when she saved his life, forsaking her own in the process. He dreaded looking down on her pale, blank body and finding that she was no longer his Jack, not his Kyra, not anything but a shell, stolen away from him by the cruelty that was death.

No. Instead he preferred to stare at the door and imagine that she was the way that she had been. Before he had ruined her.

"Excuse my impudence, my Lord Marshal…" the boy's voice broke the silence and though he spoke softly and fearfully, the sound rang around the quiet room as loud as a bell. Riddick glanced away from the door reluctantly and to where the young Necro stood, a few respectful steps behind his right shoulder, hands clasped behind his back. "Perhaps you would like to go inside and see the progress that the surgeon has made? I assure you that it is remarkable."

Riddick grunted in reply, his gaze swinging back to the door. His chest tightened again as the fear gripped him with icy hands. He needed to go in…he should go in…he _had_ to go in…

"Allow me, my Lord." the boy said bowing and stepping forwards to push the door back and in upon itself revealing the room that Riddick was so fearful of to him for the first time.

The lights inside where low and subtle, casting deep shadows within and allowing Riddick to remove his goggles and settle them upon his brow. He stopped in the doorway, however, mercury eyes glancing warily around until they met with the bed where she lay.

"It is alright, my Lord." the boy continued, edging towards Kyra's body covered in pale linen sheet. "It simply looks as if she is sleeping peacefully."

Riddick glared at the young boy incredulously.

"I don't care what it fucking looks like!" he snarled, stalking forwards as he spoke. "I know that she's fucking dead and if she isn't alive again when I return from your stupid _fucking_ Underverse, someone _else_ is gonna be fucking dead too!"

The boy's eyes widened in fear and he swallowed hard, realising exactly who Riddick was talking about murdering.

"Now fuck off and leave me alone!"

"A-a-as you wish, m-m-my Lord…" he stammered and scurried from the room as fast as his bulky armour would allow him, leaving the door banging gently in his wake.

Riddick sighed and rubbed at his eyes, turning to glance at the bed where her body had been placed, hooked up to the Necro machinery that was apparently healing her wounds and keeping her body's cells and organs alive without her spirit.

His heart constricted painfully and he had to fight hard to resist the beast's urge to run to her and rip out all of the tubes and needles that littered and marred her perfect skin. Fury boiled anew in his chest as he strode towards her, his fear of seeing her again momentarily forgotten as his anger swelled.

It was his fault. All of it. His fucking fault! If he'd gone back for her sooner. Better yet, if he'd not left her at all! Shit, she had needed him back then, at the age of twelve, just killed her first person. That bitch Chillingsworth. Fuck. How blind had he been? Imam had been right. He had left her when she had most needed him, when she had needed his support to deal with taking another life, albeit a fucking worthless one, but a life none-the-less. He had been the only one who had any idea of what she had been going through, of the emotions that raged in a torrent through her heart…and he had left her. Fucking left instead of staying and dealing with the tough shit. He'd always been good at running and no matter who he killed, no matter how many people feared him Multiverse-wide, he was still a fucking coward!

If he had stayed and helped her get over her problems then maybe she would not have ended up in Crematoria a serial killer. Maybe she wouldn't be dead…

Riddick calmed his suddenly racing heart and sat down heavily in the chair beside her bed. Her face was still pale from her conversion to Necro. The small, unsightly scars that they had given her still marred her beautiful, slender neck. At least she had her eyes closed. He didn't think he'd have been able to cope if he had seen her eyes lifeless when they had been so alive all the time.

"Fuck…" he swore, his voice barely audible as he reached a shaking hand for one of hers.

Her hands, small and scarred, had been cleaned, washed of blood, and Riddick shifted the linen sheet slightly to confirm that they had in fact cleaned her entire body, leaving her naked beneath the blankets. His beast snarled at that. The idea of anyone touching her, even to clean her and fix her injuries up, made him want to kill someone.

His hand tightened on hers, limp and cool, and he studied it devoutly, unable to look into her face for it did indeed look as if she was only sleeping. He tried to fight the hope that seeped into his blood that she would wake. It was a fool's hope, he knew. She was dead and nothing was going to bring her back until he got his ass into the Underverse.

Patience, Richard, patience.

He smoothed his hand over hers again, holding her wrist gently in one hand, while the other he placed against her palm, marvelling at the difference in size and shape, the different tones of skin, different textures. He loved her. Every part of her. Every scar. Every blemish. Every freckle and hair. Every incongruity. He loved her. All of her.

Moving slightly, he pressed a soft kiss to her palm, upon her lifeline, before cupping her hand to his cheek beneath his. Soon, very soon she would be doing that for herself…if she didn't kill his ass for letting her die. All he had to do was find her again.

"I'm coming for you, Kyra. I'm coming to find you…" he murmured, entwining the fingers of his hand together with hers, drawing their connection into his lap and resting his head back against the headrest of his chair.

He was tired, so god damn tired. Too tired…

-ooooo-

She smiled at him. Her beautiful, brilliant smile that he had missed over the five years that they had been apart. Her eyes no longer dull and unseeing but ardent and violent all at once. The green was so vivid it made all of the other colours around them pale in comparison. Nothing could compare, not gold nor jewels nor the stars in the sky above them. They all faded when she smiled.

"Riddick…" she spoke his name like a prayer, her smile brightening as the word rolled from her tongue. "I did it for you. You know that…right?"

"I know." he replied, his own tongue thick and heavy in his mouth. "It was stupid of you." Unable to say any more he reached his hand towards her, intending to pull her close into an embrace and never release her again. But she stepped back from him, shaking her head sadly as her stunning eyes, that he loved so much, misted with tears.

"I had to, Riddick. You understand?" she queried, her breathing quickening as it had when she was just a child and he had upset her.

Diamond bright tears shimmered in her eyes, so near to falling and Riddick sighed. He was bad for her. He'd gotten her killed and now he was making her cry. What a bastard he was.

"Don't be so hard on yourself." she said quietly as if she had read his thoughts.

"Why not? It's all true. I fucked you up." he responded and she gave a shaky smile.

"I was fucked up already, Riddick. Besides, I wanted to do it. You couldn't have stopped me."

Her rebellious streak. Stubborn as a mule. Always had been. That made him smirk at her.

"I'm coming to get you." he growled firmly and Kyra's slight smile changed abruptly, her eyes becoming dark and fearful. She glanced around, searching for something, for _someone_, as if she was being stalked.

"You can't." she replied, her voice desperate. "He won't let you!" her eyes never met his as she spoke, they continued to scan the vicinity frantically almost.

"Kyra! _Kyra_! Look at me!" he called but she refused and the panic settled in his chest like a frigid snake, coiled and waiting to strike and turn into full blown terror. She was afraid. Something hunted her.

"Fuck!" she hissed, her voice hitching as her fear became more apparent. "Don't' come for me, Riddick! He'll only kill you too! I don't want my death to be worthless just because you tried to rescue me again."

"Hey!" he roared and her head snapped around to glance at him. He frowned at her, furiously, pointing to his uncovered, luminous eyes with the two forefingers of his right hand. "Fucking _look_ at me!" he growled and Kyra did, stilling in her flighty movements for a moment to study him intently. "I said I'm comin' to get you. I don't give a shit if the devil himself wants to stop me. He can come and have a fuckin' go if he wants!" he reached for her again, as he had previously, and again Kyra stepped back and away from his embrace before he could touch her. She shook her head sending her dark tresses whipping around her pale face. The tears had come back, this time slipping in two silent streams down her cheeks.

"I am his now, you can't change it. He won't let you. He's been here before, he owns this place. He owns the others here. They all do his bidding. They'll never let you past. They'll try and stop you. It's how it is here. No matter who they were in life, they all change in death…even me. I can feel it happening…I fight it…at least I try to, but they say things. Confuse me…I-I…I remember some of them, the ones that I killed and the ones who tried to kill me. Sometimes I see the others. They are glad that we escaped from that planet, Riddick, but they never stay for very long…he always makes sure of that…and then the ones I killed come back…" her eyes once again became the dim pools that they had been as she had died and her ability to see him waned. It was almost as if he wasn't there anymore and she backed away slowly, eyes darting about and hands clamped firmly over her ears. "You keep what you kill…you keep what you kill…" she murmured over and over again.

"Kyra, you're not making any fucking sense. Kyra? Kyra!" before he could say anymore to her she was gone, engulfed by a darkness so absolute that he felt it's oppression baring down upon his own shoulders and he felt his body starting to pull itself from the unconsciousness back into reality.

-ooooo-

Comments, criticism and anything else you want…chuck it my way, I'll be very grateful!


	6. Chapter 5: From Darkness to Light

Oh my God! I'm so sorry that it's been so long since I updated. Don't worry I'm getting back to it now. I've just been commissioned to do a painting though so I'll see how it goes.

Wow what a mad few weeks! The weather is amazing over here in old Blighty (wonders will never cease!) but I seem to be the only person who can get a virus in this heat. I spent a whole entire week in bed surrounded by mountainous piles of snotty tissues (eww!). I didn't even have the drive to do any writing on any of my fics, I just kind of slept and sat there.

Then it was my birthday on the 26th. Woohoo, I am now 21! Yay! And I got the Rob Dougan album 'Furious Angels' that this fic is inspired by. That man is a genius when it comes to music…and he's hot too! Lol! You guys should check out his stuff, it's so inspiring! 'Furious Angels' the song is still my fav track though. Check out the words…wow…

I also now have my own little convict running around somewhere, watching out for me…no I'm not making it up. I met a guy on the train station…he was a little…ahem…drunk shall we say, but he didn't scare me like the other drunks that I've unfortunately met on the train. I felt quite sorry for him, I think he just needed someone to talk to and so I listened. I'm a very good listener. Agony Aunt Gem, that's me! It's quite touching that he felt he could tell me his problems and I gave him some advice. His train came before mine and I got a kiss on the cheek (not that I make a habit of letting random drunk men kiss me) and the promise that if we ever met again and anyone was messing with me, he'd go after them with a crowbar. I think that's sweet...in a weird, twisted kinda way…I didn't even learn his name…I hope he's okay.

Anyway, onwards! Sorry this chap is a little on the short side. They'll get longer again soon.

Happy Reading!

Gem

xxx

Chapter 5: From Darkness to Light.

The brightness around him was dazzling. Excruciating. Blinding. He could barely see at all through the lights. He was sweating, hot from the thick, heady air that hung like a smog throughout the Necromonger Flagship. Every breath that he took filled his longs with stale, used oxygen, too warm to be refreshing, too old to help his troubled mind work any more clearly. The fog still hung in his head.

And so he stood, eyes aching from the blazing lights that stabbed into his pupils relentlessly, assaulting his brain in great, throbbing waves of viciousness.

His punishment was hard to bare, all of it self-inflicted, but bare it he did and bare it he would continue to do, for the pain, the tiredness that laced it's way through his body, mapping him out, that made his limbs heavy and unyielding, his movements sluggish, all of that was easier to shoulder than the dreams. It was the dreams that he feared the most.

Following the first as he had sat beside Kyra's body in the medical room, the dreams had come every night. Once, twice, three times. The longer he slept the faster and the more furious they came, seeping into his unconscious mind, claiming his thoughts. Disturbing his peace…or what little peace could be had by a man ruled by death. For he was. It consumed his every thought. Kyra's death, the death of his victims. Every single death he had every witnessed fluttered through his thoughts, followed for the first time in his life, by the tingle of regret.

Sleep had never before been a problem for him. Never. Not even following his first ever kill at the tender age of thirteen. Not even in the belly of Butcher's Bay. He had always had the knack for escape and absconding from dreams and nightmares was no different. His sleep had always been darkness. Impenetrable by all, even his blackness invading gaze. It had always been a comfort to him. To be blind to everything, to the constant liquid mercury and crystal white that he usually saw the world in, was a gift from above, it seemed. It was almost as if God had taken pity upon Riddick and his plight and said _'Hey, why don't I give this poor fucker a break?'_

Riddick snorted to himself in slight amusement. It seemed that now God had decided to torture him a little more. Taunting him with what he could not have. With what he wanted so desperately. Tearing emotions unwillingly from his heart that he had not felt in years, if he ever had felt them at all.

Suddenly the calmness, the peace of the darkness was tainted. The black was interrupted. A thunderous sky split in two by the startling jade lighting that flashed in her eyes.

She was haunting him. Every night as he slept she would invade his dreams, begging him to heed her warning. Imploring him not to venture through the Threshold. And every night he would argue. He would tell her not to worry, that he would come for her no matter _who_ was waiting for him when he got there.

Every single night it was the same. Every single God damned night they clashed and every single God damned night her beautiful, pale emerald eyes shimmered with unshed tears that he had caused, just as he had caused her death.

He hadn't lied when he'd told Imam that she had needed to stay away from him. He had ruined her. His influence upon her had made her kill Chillingsworth. His dumping her in New Mecca and then cutting out fast had made her leave in search of him. His return, his saving her again had indebted her to him. His simply being himself had made her feel for him again, enough so that she sundered her own life to save his. He had made her die for him…she had told him as much in the dreams…

Fucking hell…God was really pissing down on him now.

And so, Riddick had moved from living in the comforting world of the shadows to the blazing lights. The very things that he hated the most, but the lights where the only things that kept away the darkness. They fended back the dreams and the pain gave him something solid to focus upon instead of phantoms in the night.

He would get her back though. Not even Kyra herself would tell him otherwise. He would drag her kicking and screaming from the Underverse if he had to…but should he?

Many nights of little to no sleep had made his mind fitful in it's thinking. Notions that would never had bothered him before, doubts that would have never sailed across his worried mind began to plague him.

What is she does not want to be saved again?

What if she has finally found a peace that he could never give to her?

Did he really want to drag her back into life just to have another chance to ruin her?

Riddick shook his head as if to clear it of such damaging thoughts. He couldn't think like that. He couldn't afford to. It would drive him to distraction, to despair. Kyra seemed to be afraid in the dreams, fearful of whoever the hell it was that haunted _her, _as she haunted him. He would go to her. He would decided then if she wanted it or not. Either way, if he saved her or let her go from him, maybe he would finally find some peace…

"They are merely dreams, Lord Marshal. Only the over-workings of a troubled mind. Seeing her die has-"

His silent plea for peace was not likely to be achieved anytime soon.

His growl radiated from his body and out into the near vicinity, silencing her before she had the chance to finish her sentence.

"That is fucking bullshit, Aereon. You know it's bullshit. I know it's bullshit…" he spun on his heel to face her, glancing away from the view of his ship's Command Room and the many Necro's scurrying about within it, keeping the Lord Marshal's desired course…to the Threshold. "And even Sir Fucking Mullet-head knows it!" Riddick jerked his thumb in Vaako's direction and the Commander's glower darkened at the insult throw at his hair. He regained his upright, stiff composure though, grinding his teeth together hard as Riddick's amused glare goaded him to make one wrong move, one wrong comment. Vaako knew that he was treading on very thin ice, he could be dead within seconds if the Lord Marshal saw it fit. He had never been dispensable before and he did not like the feeling of it.

Riddick snorted, turning his bright gaze away from them both and rubbed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes hard, making the pain already within them explode deeper inside his head. Ah, pain. Pain he knew. Pain he could understand.

"Someone. Some-_fucking_-one, tell me what the _fuck _is going on." he growled, his voice deceivingly quiet, belying his controlled rage. "I don't like not knowing what is happening to me."

"Nothing…is happening to you." Aereon remained adamant, shooting a wary glance to her left at Vaako and the other Necromonger Commanders that followed Riddick in a continuous stream when he ventured forth from his chamber, awaiting their orders. They did so, however, leaving enough distance between them and their new monarch so that they were not within striking range. It seemed that the Necro's did not fully trust their leader just quite yet…

Riddick's un-goggled, silver eyes bored into hers, though he couldn't see a lot with the fierce lights. He could make out her staunch face, barely.

"Don't you fucking patronize me." he responded, jabbing a finger in her direction forcefully. "I know when something's going down. And I know when self-righteous old witches are keeping' that info to themselves."

Aereon sighed, tiredly, at his accusations, allowing her blue eyes to fall to the floor in resignation. She clasped her hands, daintily almost, before her.

"Perhaps we could continue this conversation somewhere a little more…private." she opined gently, her sapphire glazed stare flickering up to meet Vaako's thunderous grey, furious scowl, filled with anger and hatred as he glare back at her, before skittering away and back to Riddick.

"I do not think that a mere Elemental has the right to request so much from our Lord Marshal!" Vaako grit out his words from between clenched teeth, spitting them forth, partly in Aereon's direction and partly towards Riddick. The resentment laced through the words 'Lord Marshal' was not lost upon Riddick who's lips curled at the corner betraying his amusement at the other man's expense.

"The Necromonger Commander's should be present at all times to ensure that you, _Elemental_, are not speaking to our Lord your seditious lies!" he continued, his words seething and writhing all on their once they had fallen from his lips.

Aereon made to snap a regal retort, glancing down her nose at Vaako with a barely concealed contempt that he showed equally as strong for her.

"Shut the fuck up!" Riddick roared in exasperation. Swinging his powerful, clenched hand to point at Vaako, he loosed a vicious snarl. He had little patience for fools, he didn't suffer them gladly and this Vaako was turning out to be the biggest fool of all. Riddick would have respected him a hell of a lot more if he had simply come out and challenged him head on rather than slinking around with his wife, trying to weasel his way into prominence.

"I'll talk to whoever the fuck I want. And you-" he spun back to Aereon who's steady, cool gaze did not falter for a second, as Vaako's had, beneath Riddick's ire. "You better have some fucking good answers after all of this!"

-ooooo-

You know me, I love a good review!


	7. Chapter 6: Them's the Breaks

OMFG! Deary me, is this a post? Why yes! Yes, I do believe it is!

I'm so terribly sorry about my lack of activity on this fic for so long. I lost my way with it a bit and so I took time out. Did a little reading, painting, watched a few movies and went on holiday. That was a while ago now and this chapter has taken me three weeks to get out completely. Apologies now for it's terribleness…I need to get back into the swing of writing you see and so, hopefully, this will be the start of it.

Thank you all for your support and for continuing to read and review. You know I enjoy reading your ideas and opinions so keep 'em coming! And let me know what you think to this chapter. I'm hoping that it's not too awful!

Well, I'd better let you get reading seeing as how I've made you wait for entirely too long, lol!

Happy Reading!

Gem

xxx

-ooooo-

Chapter 6: Them's the Breaks.

Riddick was waiting. He hated waiting. No one had ever made him wait since that first time that he had taken another man's life. No one had even dared. And yet, there he was, back pressed to the cold granite and metal that constituted his supposed throne, elbows resting upon the arms as he leant back, fingers laced together loosely.

He glared at them. The old Witch-woman and the young Necro-boy. The latter of the two, he now knew, was a priest, hence his keenness for the Necromonger rituals to be carried out accordingly.

The boy's ice blue eyes flitted about the room nervously. Focusing upon Riddick for little more than a few seconds at a time and then skittering away to the safety of his armoured boots.

"Well?" Riddick demanded finally, his voice rumbling around the chamber and shattering the silence into a thousand pieces. "I asked for some answers."

Aereon cleared her throat, smoothing her gowns in a gesture that had become commonplace for her and that told Riddick that she was anxious, before lacing her fingers together in front of her.

"Answers, Lord Marshall?" she queried, with a slight tilt of her head to one side. "But, first we must have questions."

Riddick pounded his fist into the arm of his throne.

"Don't play fucking games with me, Aereon, because you'll lose!" he warned and she nodded her head, twice, before fingering the intricate silver necklace at her throat.

"Firstly, I shall presume that you want to know how to stop the dreams." her voice was light and flowing but Riddick plainly detected the taint of fear beneath it. The old woman knew that she was treading dangerously heavy on very thin ice.

Aereon took his silence as a confirmation and continued, her eyes focusing on Riddick despite her fear of him.

"The answer to that problem is relatively simple, I must say. I am surprised that you, yourself have not figured it out as of-"

"Aereon…" Riddick warned again, his voice making the air between them thrum with latent power and she paused as if suddenly remembering who she was talking to.

"Of course." she murmured and nodded to herself yet again. Straight to the point. Yes. That was the best policy. Be direct. "Fine. To stop the dreams, you must make her believe that you do not intent to travel to the Threshold to retrieve her soul."

A worrying silence met her declaration for so long that the atmosphere began to cool. Neither of the three moved, they simply remained there, in their triangle, all eyes focused upon the aging woman that had spoken.

Riddick ground his teeth together, silver eyes studying the Elemental intently, trying to decided whether what she said was out of a desire to aid him…or simply a way for her to put her own plans into effect. Everyone wanted something and Aereon, though a lot older than most, was no less demanding. Her words swirled around inside his mind as he attempted to unravel their meaning fully.

Make her think that he wasn't coming for her…lie to her…he had to lie to Kyra…to Jack…he had to make her think that he had moved on and forgotten her…Shit!

A growl, deep and reverberating, slipped unbidden from his throat making both Aereon and the Necro-boy stare up as him in consternation for their safety.

"I don't much like this idea of yours, sister." he stated, a hand moving to rub at his jaw in contemplation. "There must be-"

"There is no other way!" Aereon interrupted defiantly, raising her chin, almost challengingly at the killer before her. Her tone was cold, icy, frigid. She did not like being told that she was wrong. "The best chance that you will ever have in succeeding in this quest of yours, is by being at you physical best. For that, you need rest. You need to be free from her haunting so that you can focus." she swallowed hard, her eyes cold blue flecked with a violet than made them glow with ferocity as she repeated her earlier statement firmly. "There is no other way."

For a split second she thought that Riddick might lunge at her from him perch atop the throne and break her neck neatly in two. Perhaps he wanted to so that he could mount her head upon his wall as a warning for all others impudent enough to question him. Power rippled just beneath the surface of his skin. Annoyance twitched at his temples in a throbbing pulse beating out it's own rhythm. And yet, not matter how much he hated her idea, they both knew that it was indeed the only way. Aereon was indeed telling the truth.

Eventually Riddick nodded in acceptance, though even as he did so his teeth ground together in abhorrence of the idea.

"You must make her soul believe it, Riddick. You only have one chance and then she will guess what you are attempting to do." Aereon continued.

"Don't worry about it." he countered, waving a powerful hand in dismissal, wanting nothing more than to move away from their topic of conversation.

"Really, Riddick, I am serious! You must-"

"I said don't fucking worry about it!" he snarled fiercely. Surely Aereon enjoyed trying his patience? Why else would she be so fucking annoying? "I'll deal with it!"

Aereon considered him dubiously for a moment longer before giving in with a slight dip of her head.

"Very well…" she murmured, her words as thin and insubstantial as a breeze. She turned her gaze to the fearful Necro-boy beside her who had previously been ignored by both Aereon and Riddick.

His eyed widened and he swallowed hard as he noticed that his Lord Marshall's stare had also fallen upon him.

"Secondly," Aereon began regally, tipping her head back slightly and giving the impression that she was looking down her nose at the young quivering man. Her self-important air had returned the very second that Riddick's scrutiny had been displaced from her. "Secondly, I do believe you would like to know how you are going to complete your task in the Threshold, would you not, Lord Marshall?"

Riddick remained silent but shot her a withering glance that was enough to send her careering forwards into speech once more.

"The Necromonger Priest here, may prove more adequate at providing such answers for us." she indicated the blond haired youth who looked as if he would swallow his tongue with fear if he did so any harder from sheer terror.

"Um…" he stuttered, hands trembling as he wove his fingers together. "…A-a-a-a-ah…" he wiped at hid forehead, slick with his own fear. "M-m-m, m-m-m, ma, ma, my L-l-l-l-lord-"

Aereon looked positively gleeful at the boy's expense. She made it no secret that she despised all Necromongers and the barely more than a child Priest was no exception.

It wasn't working. The boy could barely breathe from panic, let alone recount to Riddick what he had to do in order to rescue Kyra. Perhaps that had been Aereon's plan all along? For she had also made no secrets of the fact that she wanted Riddick to abandon his quest for Kyra's soul.

He sighed deeply. Fuck Aereon. He may be able to deal with her through intimidation and scare mongering…but that wasn't going to work with the boy. The times he'd yelled at him or threatened him, the Necro-lad had made himself scarce faster than Riddick could've said '_boo_' to a goose.

"What's your name, Kid?" he spoke over the boy's mumblings evoking an incredulous glare from Aereon and a surprised one from the youth.

"Jonty, m-m-my Lord." he stammered slightly, his cool eyes still wary.

Riddick waved a hand in dismissal of his title.

"Jonty, huh? Call me Riddick, Kid. Only fuckers who want something call me by my title." he shot a smouldering stare at Aereon who was not oblivious to the underlying threat in his comment. Her blue-purple eyes flashed with barely concealed ire but for once, she held her tongue.

"How old are you, Kid?" Riddick continued, focusing his attention back onto Jonty, his usually fierce tone conversational for once.

"S-s-s-s-sixteen, L-l-l-lord-I mean, Riddick." Jonty corrected himself with a hasty shake of his golden head.

"And tell me, Kid. You have a girl to keep your bed warm?" Riddick's query was accompanied by a quirked eyebrow and a suppressed smirk of amusement following a wild, hot, red flush that broke out across Jonty's pale features.

"I have a wife…We married six weeks ago." his embarrassment overcame him in waves and washes suddenly and he turned his face to the floor, scuffing the toe of a boot as he looked for a distraction.

"Ah." Riddick smiled, leaning back into his uncomfortable throne and crossing his legs so that his right ankle rested atop his left knee. "Still in the 'honeymoon period' then?" he chuckled, folding his arms behind his head. "Bet she's a firecracker, right? Makes a man outta you, huh?"

Jonty couldn't contain the nervous, self-conscious smile that hovered over his pale lips as he nodded, in small jerky movements, in agreement.

"So, what would you do, Jonty, if someone had off with your wife? Say some fuckin' shit-head steals her away from you. What would you do?" his mercury glossed eyes studied the conflict within the younger man's face as Jonty battled against his Necromonger teachings and his feelings as a man and husband.

Finally, he took a deep breathe, his eyes loosing their focus slightly, turning dull as he reeled off what he had been lectured to say since the day they had converted him.

"Necromonger law states that in such a situation, one must-"

Riddick gave a dissatisfied grunt, returning his foot to the ground with a thud and sitting forwards, resting his elbows upon his knees instead.

"Bullshit! That's the Necro's talkin', Kid. I wanna know what the _man_ in you would do."

Jonty swallowed hard again and clenched his fists at his sides as he contemplated Riddick's question properly. His eyes darkened again, but this time they turned stormy blue as if he were indeed imagining what he would do in such an event.

"I'd kill the bastard, Sir." he spoke and for the first time, true feeling, true emotions filtered into his tone, leaving little doubt that he would actually slaughter any man who tried to take his wife, or die trying himself.

"That's more like it!" Riddick chuckled. "But, see, Jonty. It ain't so easy for me. My problem is I ain't got no one to kill, you get me?"

"Yes, Sir." Jonty nodded, something akin to sympathy colouring his irises.

Fuck! Riddick didn't need anyone's sympathy. He didn't want it for starters and if the boy hadn't been so valuable to his fight for Kyra, Riddick would have probably not thought twice about shivving up his pale, pretty-boy face as a warning. However, as the Fates would have it, Riddick needed him and Riddick knew how to get exactly what he wanted out of people.

"So," he murmured after a considerable pause. "You gonna help a guy out, Jonty? Tell me what the fuck I have to do, huh?"

Jonty nodded once, with more confidence after the nerves and fear had ebbed out of his body enough so as he could string a complete sentence together at least, instead of stammering out his words like a pulse-rifle.

"It is highly dangerous, crossing into the Threshold, and there is only one way in which to do so successfully. If you were to walk into the Threshold as you are now, you would merely see a bare stone chamber." Jonty paused, considering his next choice of words carefully, and for all the desperation within him, for all the demands that the Beast made to be done with it and slit the boy's throat, Riddick allowed his intermission, allowed him to compose himself fully. "You are not going to like what you must do, Sir. It is something that holds so many dangers and risks and it may go terribly wrong if you do not have people who you trust entirely there to guard you."

Riddick's brow furrowed in confusion at Jonty's words and the Necro-boy took several lungful's of air, his blue eyes meeting Riddick's squarely for the first time.

"In order for you to cross into the Threshold and save the soul of your woman…you must die."

-ooooo-

Comments, criticism and anything else. I've been away for so long that I need all the help that I can get to get myself back into the swing of things.


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